


Sunday

by Sherlocki_no_Kyojohn (orphan_account)



Series: Marco Bodtom Week 2015 [4]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Bodt Week, Car Sex, Domestic, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Shower Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-11
Updated: 2015-10-11
Packaged: 2018-04-25 19:52:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4973908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Sherlocki_no_Kyojohn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for Bottom Bodt Week on tumblr, run by the Bottom Bodt Brigade.</p><p>Prompt: Lazy Sunday</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Marco awoke to his fiancee mouthing at the back his neck. He cracked an eyelid and was immediately blinded by rays shining through a window which still had no blinds, despite their having moved in over a month ago. Marco shut his eyes tight again and groaned.  
"What time is it?" he asked, voice husky from sleep.  
"I don't know," said Jean. "Isn't it beautiful?"  
Marco smiled. It really was. In order to be sure they truly could afford this house, one they planned to live in for many years to come, they had both been working their asses off. Marco had started detention duty during the school year and, when summer rolled around, signed up to teach summer school as well. Jean had picked up as much over time as possible at the hospital, working twelve hour shifts in the emergency room every weekend and most week nights. Marco wouldn't let him do them back to back, but he got close enough, the last ones only having a three hour break in between. A few weeks earlier they'd gotten into one of their biggest fights ever when he'd picked up an extra shift from fellow nurse, Krista, without telling Marco. But now they were home. Everything was moved in, unpacked (more or less), and it was their first mutual day off in months.  
"Happy Sunday," Jean said, moving his mouth to Marco's jaw, causing him to shiver.  
"Happy Sunday," he muttered back.  
They were silent then and Jean continued kissing all over Marco's jaw and neck and shoulders. A few cars drove through the suburban streets and one bird just outside the window wouldn't shut up, but Marco didn't mind. He loved mornings and their noises, especially when he could properly enjoy them, like he was now. Jean was warm against his back, one arm thrown haphazardly over his waist. On a whim, Marco slid one hand down the crisp sheets and twined their fingers together. Jean returned the grasp firmly and moved his lips to Marco's ear which he licked playfully before asking, "You still tired?"  
Marco felt his own lips curve into a smile and he shook his head. "Nope, not anymore. You?"  
"Not in the slightest," Jean breathed, then sucked Marco's earlobe into his mouth hungrily. Marco laughed as he turned to face his fiancee. In the morning light, Jean's amber eyes seemed almost iridescent. His blond hair was even more tousled than usual, the darker tone of his undercut spiked up randomly. Jean leaned down to kiss him.  
It was soft at first, their lips moving in practiced unison, both a bit chapped and dry. When they parted, Marco ran his tongue across his bottom lip to help this and didn't fail to notice Jean following it with his eyes. Suddenly, Jean's mouth was back on his, but it was much more passionate now. Their tongues tangled and their lips pushed and pulled, sucking and biting and gasping for breath. Jean moved so that he was completely on top of Marco, pinning his hands above his head.  
"Oh, Marco," Jean said as he kissed his lips again. "I've missed you." He kissed the corner of his mouth. "So." He kissed his cheek. "Fucking." He kissed his nose. "Much." He kissed his forehead, then both of his eyelids, then moved back to his mouth, but stopped just above it, simply breathing. They looked each other in the eye.  
"Jean," Marco could only respond, breathless. Their erections were already pressing together through their clothes, the slightest movement from either of them causing torturously slight friction. Fortunately, Jean only wore underwear and an old t shirt to bed, Marco flannel pj pants and nothing else, so it was a simple matter to slip out of all of it until they were both completely nude. They took a moment to admire each other's bodies, but it didn't last long.  
"Get on your fucking knees," Jean muttered darkly. With a shudder and a smile Marco obeyed. He heard the bedside drawer being opened and rummaged through, then felt Jean's long hands kneading his ass. Jean kissed the small of Marco's back.  
"Jean," Marco said.  
"Yeah, babe?"  
"Get it me already."  
Jean let out one of his loudest laughs, the one where he shut his eyes and threw his head back. "Yes sir."  
Still chuckling, Jean kissed Marco's back one more time, then uncapped the lube and slicked up his fingers. After taking a moment to clench his hand into a fist to warm it up, he took his forefinger and ran it around Marco's pink rim. Marco's arms, with which he was supporting himself, shook at the sensation. Without warning, Jean thrust his finger in up to the first knuckle. Marco gaped, arms threatening to give out even more.  
"You like that?" Jean was at his ear. Marco nodded, chewing on his lip. "You want more?"  
"Yes," he whispered.  
"What was that? I couldn't quite hear you."  
"Yes, please, I want more!"  
Jean shoved his finger in the rest of the way. "Like that? Is that what you want?"  
Marco nodded again, as much as he could with his head hanging between his shoulders. "Yes, please, Jean more, Jean please!"  
Jean laughed quietly and began slowly moving his finger. Despite his words, Jean was quite careful in preparing his fiancee. Each finger was only added after Marco was completely used to the stretch, rocking back desperately until he was practically fucking himself on Jean's hand.  
Both of their cocks were weeping with precum by the time Jean finally acquiesced to Marco's begging and removed the three fingers. Taking only a brief moment to slick his own cock up with more lube, Jean aligned himself at Marco's entrance.  
"Are you ready?" he asked.  
"Fuck, yes," Marco whimpered. Jean took a deep breath and pushed into Marco until his was halfway up the shaft when he had to stop from the sheer, overwhelming bliss of the feeling. He exhaled and laid flush with Marco's back. It was so hot and tight inside Marco, and the way a slight sheen of sweat already layered their skin, the heaviness of their uneven panting the only sound in the room, was making Jean dizzy with euphoria.  
Finally unable to take it anymore, still laying over Marco, Jean pushed his hips until he was in up to the base. Marco let out a short, high moan.  
"Jean, I love you. I love you so much."  
Jean kissed Marco's shoulder. "I love you too, baby." Then he straightened, grasped Marco's softly rounded hips, and began humping into him.  
One of the important factors which had gone into their decision to live in a house, rather than an apartment, was the freedom to make as much noise as they wanted, without fear of disturbing neighbors on the other side of a thin wall (something which had gotten them in trouble in both of their previous buildings). The room was now filled with staccatoed shouts, cries of each other's name, and the rhythmic creaking of the new boxspring. When they were both nearing their climax, the headboard banging against the wall joined the cacophony as Marco grabbed it to help withstand Jean's merciless treatment.  
Jean had slipped a hand around to Marco's cock and was stroking him in time with their fucking. It was too much for Marco to take.  
"Jean. Jean, I'm close."  
"Mmmm...Me too."  
"I'm so, so close!" Jean had started stroking Marco even faster, his hips stuttering as he tried to keep the rhythm. With one final, strong pull all the way down the shaft, paying special attention to the sensitive underside and head, timed perfectly with a direct hit to his prostate, Marco was sent over the blissful edge. Come streamed out of the tip of his dick in steady spurts, through Jean's fingers, onto the bed; some ran down the inside of his thighs.  
Jean shuddered at the feel of Marco pulsing around him as he came. He placed both of his hands back on Marco's waist and continued fucking him just as hard as before. Marco felt slightly numb from the pleasure, but they both knew, had discovered together, that Marco actually liked a little overstimulation. So, blissed out, still in a postorgasmic haze, he let himself fall to the feel of Jean continuing to target his abused prostate.   
He lowered his upper-half, resting his head on his forearms, and peeked back around at Jean to enjoy the many expressions which always flitted over his face when he was about to come. He shoved his ass even further into the air and purposefully started milking Jean's dick.  
"Come on, Love. You can do it. Come for me." Jean lost it hearing Marco's soft, playful, post-climax voice. With a final shout, Jean came inside Marco. He rested his forehead against Marco's back and panted through it. When he was finally through, he pulled out of Marco, causing them both to wince, and fell to Marco's side. Marco rolled the other way, avoiding the large wet spot between them, even though it was probably pointless considering he literally had come leaking out of his ass.  
"Shit," Jean said, rubbing his eyes. "I almost forgot how awesome morning sex is." Marco laughed, still a little breathless.  
"Yeah." Jean reached over and took Marco's hand in his. He brought it to his lips and began kissing Marco's fingers one by one, paying special attention to the tips.  
"You know what's even more awesome?"  
"Hhmm?"  
"Showering afterwards."  
Jean smiled, then groaned, pretending to complain. "But I don't wanna get up."  
"Fine, do what you want. I'm gonna go take a shower, though." With that, Marco hopped off the bed and strolled to the bathroom, in all his naked, freckled glory, not even sparing Jean a backwards glance. Jean laid there until he heard water running. With a curse, Jean rolled off the mattress and followed his fiancee.


	2. Chapter 2

Marco was leaning into the shower, testing the water with his hand. Drying come was congealing on the insides of his thighs. Jean thought it was one of the most beautiful things he'd ever seen. He came up behind him and wrapped his arms around his torso.  
"Do we have any plans today?" Jean asked.  
"Nope. Isn't it beautiful?"  
They shared a smiling, tender kiss before stepping into the shower. Marco liked his showers really hot, which had taken Jean some getting used to, but now he kind of liked it. Jean took some of Marco's sweet smelling body wash, rubbed his hands to create a lather, and began cleaning his lover's body. Marco did the same with Jean's shampoo; Jean shivered at the feeling of his nails on his scalp. Marco knew how much he loved this and took such advantage of it that Jean had to stop. He laid his head on Marco's shoulder. The water fell around them and they were quiet, simply holding each other.  
"I love you," Jean muttered into his slippery skin. Marco's soft smile widened.  
He giggled and kissed the apple of Jean's cheek. "I love you too, Love." He guided Jean further into the spray and rinsed the soap from his hair. Jean's hands slipped from the small of his back to his ass. He looked up into Marco's chocolate eyes and smirked before squeezing his cheeks. Even though he was expecting it, Marco couldn't help but let out a small yelp. Jean laughed.  
Already they were both hardening again at the contact. Marco let his hand trail down to Jean's cock which he slowly began stroking. He used his thumb to run small circles under the head; with his other hand he fondled Jean's balls, all while maintaining hazy eye contact.  
Jean groaned and closed his eyes. He leaned forward and sank his teeth into Marco's shoulder. Leaning even deeper into his body, Jean used one of his hands still clasping Marco's ass cheeks to slip between his crack, down to his asshole. He let his middle finger draw lazy patterns around the puckered muscle. Jean took his fiancee's heavy breathy for encouragement and slipped the finger inside. It was quite easy, given how loose he still was, but it was still hot, still Marco. Jean's cock twitched at the feeling. He turned his head and inhaled the scent of Marco's wet neck as he pushed even further in, searching for his prostate. When he felt the tight bundle of nerves he began rubbing it and Marco let out a sharp gasp.  
"Jean," he breathed and his grasp on Jean's cock tightened. His strokes lengthened. Jean added another finger and applied even more pressure to Marco's prostate. Marco's hand sped up. Soon they were both panting, in the swing of a heady rhythm. The water still streamed down their flushed bodies.  
Jean didn't even get a chance to warn Marco before his orgasm hit him with surprising force, especially given how recently he had climaxed. The fluid washed down the drain.  
His fingers in Marco's had stilled during his climax, but now he began moving his wrist with even more purpose. Marco's mouth hung open, his head slightly dropped back. Jean carefully guided his fiancee backwards until he was against the wall. Marco's eyes opened when he felt the cold tile on his back, only to see the tail end of Jean's smirk as he knelt down. His hand still worked at his ass, carefully sliding in and out, sometimes pausing to massage his prostate, sometimes to tease the first ring of muscle. He put his mouth to the head of Marco's cock, on which he planted a chaste kiss before peeking up. Marco was utterly lost to pleasure, staring down at Jean with clouded eyes and running his fingers through his blond hair. Jean winked, then took all he could fit into his mouth in one go. He let his tongue lave all along the underside, tasted the bitter precum at the back of his throat.  
It didn't take Marco long to come, being so stimulated on both ends as he was. He warned Jean with a slightly harsher tug at his hair, and he pulled away in time to let Marco's come follow his own down the drain. Marco immediately pulled him up off of his knees and into a deep kiss. It was slow, exhausted as they were, but still impassioned.  
They finished the shower, talking about small things, simply enjoying each other's company. Marco shut the water off while Jean braved the cold bathroom to grab towels. They dried off, laughing at some joke Jean made. They changed the bedding, but didn't bother washing the old ones. They simply tossed them into the corner, a crumpled mess, then fell back into bed with damp hair and tired smiles.


	3. Chapter 3

Jean sat up in bed. His hair stuck up in random directions and his eyelids felt glued together. He rubbed them blearily, then looked around for the source of the buzzing sound which had woken him. It was Marco's phone, lit up on the dresser at the end of the bed. With a grunt he crawled down the comforter and reached for it.  
"Babe?"  
"Yeah?" Marco called from down the hallway. He was probably in the kitchen.  
"Armin texted you."  
"What's it say?"  
Jean yawned and rubbed his eyes again as he climbed out of bed and zombie walked down the hallway. The message opened with a click. "Says, 'Hey, Eren and I were wondering what you guys' dinner plans were. Haven't seen you in, like, ever!' Frownie emoji."  
Marco laughed from where he was standing in front of the stove, scrambling eggs. He was barefoot, in loose jeans that still managed to show his ass to full advantage, and a light red, crewneck tee. "Say, 'We don't have any plans. Miss you too, exclamation mark, heart emoji.'"  
"I'm not saying that."  
"It's from me!"  
Jean rolled his eyes and typed the message. He also added, "And Jean says to tell Eren, 'Shut up, Jaeger.'" He glanced at the clock on the oven. It read 1:30, which wasn't as late as Jean thought. "That smells good," he said, walking up behind Marco and peering over his shoulder. He'd added bacon bits, the genius.  
"Thanks. But you don't get any until you put some clothes on."  
"Aww, c'mon," he said, wrapping his arms completely around Marco's waist and leaning all of his weight on him.  
Marco stood firm, though he ducked his head to hide a smile. "No. It's not sanitary."  
Jean huffed and dragged his feet back to the bedroom. While he was rummaging for a pair of clean boxers, Marco's phone buzzed again.  
"How's Botticelli's at 8? Fuck you too, Kirstein."  
Jean found a pair of gray boxer-briefs that he was pretty sure were Marco's. He slipped them on and went back into the kitchen. Marco was setting two heaping plates down on their tiny table.  
"They wanna do Botticelli's at eight."  
"Sounds good."  
"Think we can swing that?" Jean asked as he sat.  
Marco sat too and was quiet while he took a thoughtful bite. Finally he said, "Should be fine. Especially since I'm going to be getting the check for the online classes soon."  
"Cool," Jean said with a smile, then he dug in.  
They were silent for a while as they ate.  
"Oh my god, Marco. This is so good!"  
Marco blushed at the praise. "Thanks, Love."  
"Seriously," Jean said as he scraped the remainders into a small pile on his plate. "That was great." He finished it off in one bite. "I don't know how you do it."  
"It's just scrambled eggs."  
"Still though. Even more impressive." He was chasing a small piece of bacon around with the tip of his fork. Suddenly, the gleaming face of his fiancee was between his knees.  
"Aah! Don't do that!"  
Marco let out a loud laugh. "Did I scare you?"  
"No," Jean replied.  
"I'm sorry, Love," Marco said as his hands began creeping up Jean's thighs. "I didn't mean to." He stuck his fingers into the waistband of his underwear and leaned forward to nuzzle his crotch. Jean felt himself growing stiff.  
"Marco," he breathed. "What are you doing?" Marco laughed again, causing more warm air to ghost over Jean's clothed dick and arousing him even further.  
"What does it look like I'm doing?" His eyes were closed and his expression content. Jean looked on with fondness, softly petting the top of his head.  
Marco laid his mouth on Jean and began sucking at him through the material, which only served to add extra friction. Jean held tightly to the back of the chair with one hand to avoid unintentionally bucking his hips into Marco's face. With the other, he grasped a handful of Marco's dark brown locks, careful not to pull too hard.  
Marco continued licking and sucking all along the length. Soon, most of the front was one, large, almost black spot.  
"Marco," Jean muttered, eyes closed. He hadn't expected this to elicit a reaction, and so was surprised when Marco suddenly pulled Jean's underwear down enough to reveal his head. It was leaking precum, which Marco eagerly lapped up.  
"Marco," Jean repeated (a bit louder than he intended) and lifted his hips to help him get the clothes out of the way. Marco slid them to his knees, then returned his attention to Jean's hardening dick. Jean shifted forward in his seat to give him better access.  
"Mmm, Jean... I love this cock," Marco mused. He licked along the vein which ran on the velvety underside. "Love the way it tastes. The way it feels in me." He pulled only the head between his lips, gave a harsh suck, then let it out with a lewd pop. He ran his warm hands slowly up and down Jean's shaking thighs. "How warm it is. The way it smells." He let his lips trail all the way to the base, where he placed a soft kiss at the top of his perineum. "Smells like you."  
Jean barked a laugh, though his eyes were shut in concentration, trying hard not to just give in and fuck Marco's mouth. "You saying I smell like dick?"  
Marco shrugged, unfazed and smiling slightly. "Just clean and masculine."  
Jean chuckled and started to say something else, but was cut off by Marco taking a deep breath and taking him all the way in. He felt his head hit the back of Marco's throat. Marco exhaled through his nose, blowing through Jean's dark pubes, and relaxed his gag reflex to let his entire cock in his mouth. One of his hands came down to play with what he could reach of Jean's balls. Jean moaned and let his head fall back. His hand on the chair fell to where Marco's still clasped his thigh. When they felt the other's hands they twined their fingers together and held on tightly.  
Marco began bobbing his head. He let Jean's cock slide slowly in and out of his throat. He moaned and Jean's hips jerked involuntarily, but Marco took it in stride.  
"Marco," Jean said again.  
"Hhmmm?" Marco said around his cock, causing Jean to hump into his mouth again.  
"I...I'm..." Jean couldn't finish the sentence, couldn't think straight, had no fucking idea what he had been about to say. He looked down at Marco's face. He had that little crease between his eyebrows he got when he was concentrating. His lips were red and gleaming around his dick. Jean also saw that Marco had undone his own fly and was jerking himself off as he gave Jean head. Jean could only groan and roll his head back, afraid he would blow his load right then if he kept looking.  
Jean's clasp on his fiancee's hand and hair tightened. "Marco, I'm gonna come."  
Marco gave the smallest of nods and continued sucking him off, now at a quicker pace than before.  
"I'm serious," he warned, overly-conscious of the tight heat in the pit of his stomach. Marco's only response was to speed up even more, his fist practically flying over his own dick.  
Before he could warn for a third time, he was coming. Marco stilled and let it all spill down his throat. Some of it leaked out of the corners of his mouth. Jean stared at the spectacle in awe and Marco smiled, as best he could. When Jean was finished, Marco slurped and licked all the way back up Jean's cock, making sure he got all of the excess come, before he finally let it slip out of his mouth. Jean watched, feeling completely wrung out, as Marco finished himself off, coming inside his pants.


	4. Chapter 4

They took a moment to let their breathing return to normal, then cleaned up. Jean carefully wiped away any of the stray come that had happened to leak on the floor. Marco rinsed his face and changed into his other pair of jeans.  
"I know it shouldn't surprise me any more," Jean said when they happened to meet in the living room. "But you're just so good at that. It's slightly concerning."  
Marco laughed. "It's just a matter of practice. You've been a good test subject through the years."  
"Always so modest. You have a talent my friend; just accept it."  
Marco simply shook his head. They shared a sweet kiss, then drifted to different parts of the house. Jean fucked around on the internet on his laptop in the bedroom. Marco sat on the couch and reread a play he was considering teaching the upcoming semester. Marco's phone buzzed from the kitchen and he got up to check it.  
"You didn't text Armin back?" he called through the house.  
"It's not my fault! You distracted me."  
Rolling his eyes, Marco confirmed their dinner plans and went back to the couch. He briefly considered taking a nap before Jean came in, balancing his laptop on his arm, to show him "the most hilarious YouTube video you will ever see, Marco, I swear". It was pretty hysterical. Jean stayed with Marco on the couch; Marco continued reading, resting his feet on Jean's lap. After a while, Jean sighed, shut his laptop, and turned the xbox on.  
"Whatcha playin'?"  
"Whatever's in there. Halo, I think. Wanna play?"  
"Sure."  
"Kay. I think the other controller needs batteries though, hang on."  
They sat on their used couch and played through several campaigns. At first they talked and joked, but soon became serious and only spoke when it concerned the mission. The room darkened.  
"Fuck, Jean!" Marco said after a particularly long stretch of silence.  
Jean's heart leapt and he nearly dropped the controller. "What, what?!"  
"It's 7:50, we're going to be late!"  
"Jeez, man, you scared me. It'll be fine, the place is literally five minutes away. We could walk there if we wanted."  
"Yeah, but they're probably there already. You know Armin's always early."  
Jean stood up and stretched. "Yeah, and Jaeger's always late, so together they're right on time."  
They went back to the bedroom to get their shoes, jackets, wallets, and keys. They both shut their eyes quickly and groaned when Marco flipped the lightswitch.  
"How long were we playing the stupid game?" Marco asked, blindly feeling his way towards the closet.  
"I dunno. What time is it?"  
"7:50," Marco answered dully.  
"Oh yeah." They looked at each other and laughed.  
By the time they were finally out the door and in Jean's old black Buick, it was 7:56. Marco drove. His phone went off in his pocket and Jean fished it out for him.  
"It's Armin. Says they're 'gonna be a little late'. Called it."  
"That's weird. I hope they're alright. Ask him what's wrong."  
"Marco, I'm sure they're fine."  
Marco didn't say anything else, but held on to his concerned expression.  
"Jesus!" Jean exclaimed as they pulled into the crowded parking lot. "They're packed. Why're they so busy? I told you it was only a matter of time before people discovered this place."  
"I'm sure Armin made reservations," Marco said as he removed his seatbelt.  
"Just like you were sure they would be early?" he muttered.  
It was silent. Marco had stopped with his hand on the door handle, staring at Jean.  
"I'm sorry," he immediately said, guilt flooding his chest.  
"It's fine," Marco said, opening the door and placing one foot out of the car.  
"No, babe, I really am sorry," Jean said, reaching for Marco's hand.  
"It really is fine, Jean." Marco turned back to him to show him his smile. "Seriously." Jean looked unconvinced. Marco rolled his eyes and gave him a quick kiss. "I promise."  
"Okay...I'm still sorry though."  
Marco laughed. "I know, Love." He kissed him again. Jean kissed him back, letting his tongue run along the seam of Marco's lips, which immediately opened for him. Marco set his hands on the sides of Jean's neck; Jean's slid over and rested on his waist. They were thankfully in the very back of the lot, away from much light or any unwary families. They were alone.  
"Marco," Jean whispered when he felt the familiar, spiking heat begin to rise in his cheeks.  
"Hmm?" he replied, rubbing small circles on Jean's jaw with his thumbs.  
"We should do it."  
Marco eyes opened and he stilled his hands and mouth. He pulled back and stared at his fiancee. "What?"  
"We should do it," he repeated, looking for all the world like an excited child, except for the slight erection already obvious beneath his green chinos.  
"Jean. We can't- do it," Marco said. Despite his assertion, however, he couldn't deny how much the mere though aroused him as well.  
"Why not?" Jean asked, almost innocently. "C'mon, it'll be fun!"  
"Jean..." Marco was at a loss for words, partially because of the ludicrousness of it all, but also because of the way Jean's familiar eyes were burning into him, his face half in shadow.  
Jean gasped. "Oh, I know! We should do it in the bathroom!"  
"What?! Jean, no," he said, much firmer than before.  
"Ugh. You're no fun."  
"I am too, fun. What I'm not, is tacky. If we're going to do it, we're going to do it here in the car."  
Jean smirked. "So you do wanna do it."  
"I- you-...shut up." With that he grabbed Jean's face and started kissing him for real. Jean laughed, exhilarated. Marco pulled the door beside him back shut and they crawled over each other into the backseat.  
"This is stupid," Marco muttered, though his hands were roaming hungrily all over Jean's arms and shoulders.   
"This is awesome," Jean replied as he pushed Marco's shirt halfway up and began kissing at his chest.  
"We don't even- Jean, we don't even have any lube."  
"Not true."  
"What?"  
"I said, not true."  
"I heard you, what do you mean?"  
Jean awkwardly pulled his torso off of Marco and into the front seat. After an impressive amount of stretching, he managed to open the glove compartment and pull out a brand new bottle of lube. He crawled back on top of Marco, breathing heavily, but triumphant.  
"When did you buy that?" Marco asked, incredulous.  
"'Bout a month ago. You never know."  
"You're ridiculous."  
"Love you too, babe."  
Jean slid down and settled himself between Marco's thighs. Marco managed to get into a good enough position, resting one foot on the window behind Jean's head, the other on the floor. They'd done this before. It'd been a long time (college, actually, now that Marco thought about it), and it was a little awkward at first, but they made it work.  
Jean didn't seem to be able to wipe the smile from his face and Marco found it infectious. He even giggled when Jean undid his fly and practically licked his lips when he saw Marco's dick through his underwear. But the giggles soon turned to moans when Jean pulled everything down and inserted two slicked up fingers into his asshole. It was getting hot inside the car and they were both still fully clothed, but they didn't care. All they felt was each other.  
"Wait. Jean, wait."  
"What?" Jean said, distracted.  
"We're going to make a fucking mess."  
Jean's grin turned into a smirk. "I thought of that." Seemingly out of nowhere, Marco heard the crinkling of condom wrappers, a sound he hadn't heard in quite a while. For a ridiculous moment, he felt a surge of nostalgia.  
"Where'd you get that?"  
"Kept 'em with the lube. I also have tissues and moist towelettes," he added, obviously proud of himself.  
"You're my hero," Marco replied, as dryly as he could with Jean's fingers still up his ass. Marco gave a small gasp when Jean pulled them out to quickly open the condoms and put them on.  
"Jeannn, come on," Marco complained when Jean went to stretch him again. "I've been prepped twice today, it'll be fine."  
"That was a while ago; you and I both know that's a bad idea."  
"It'll be fine," Marco repeated.  
Jean's smile softened slightly and he reinserted his fingers. "You're so impatient when you're horny." He sat forward and kissed Marco's scowl. "Just a sec, Babe."  
Marco let his head drop back with a huff, but soon his face slackened at the feel of Jean's careful work. He scissored and prodded and rubbed every little spot he could find, and Marco panted through it all. But when Jean began pushing in a fourth finger he opened his eyes and the scowl returned to his face. "Now you're just fucking with me."  
Jean giggled, caught. He turned his head slightly and kissed the inside of Marco's knee. "I'm sorry, you're just so pretty when you're like this."  
Before Marco could respond, Jean had pulled his fingers out and was prodding Marco's entrance with his slick cock.  
"Ready?" he asked.  
Marco nodded enthusiastically. Jean fucked into him hard and didn't stop; not when Marco's shouting and the rocking of the Buick threatened to draw attention to their deserted corner of the lot, or when the heat from their breath and bodies caused the glass to fog and sweat to gather at their temples.  
Marco came first, untouched. Jean followed him over the edge, egged on by Marco's masterful control of his dick in his ass, even while climaxing.  
Jean was careful to clean up summarily, using his long, thin fingers to tie both of the condoms off quickly.  
"I don't know whether to be grossed out or charmed," said Marco, still catching his breath. Jean laughed, still a little high on the thrill. By some miracle, they'd managed not to get any come on their clothes or the car.  
"We're still pretty good at that," Jean remarked as he pulled Marco out of the backseat and into the brisk night air.  
They walked towards the restaurant, arm in arm, cheeks ruddy and eyes bright.


	5. Chapter 5

When they reached the bright red door they heard a familiar, slightly high-pitched voice. "Jean! Marco!"  
"Armin!" Marco squealed, releasing Jean to meet Armin in an excited embrace.  
"Sup Kirstein."  
"Hey Jaeger." They bro hugged, then followed their chattering boyfriends into the darkened restaurant. Though they were fifteen minutes late for their reservation, Armin managed to get them a table. As long as Marco had known Armin (longer than he'd known Jean, actually) he'd never seen him meet anyone he couldn't persuade. They were sat at a booth towards the back of the restaurant, for which they were glad. Even though the place was crowded, they barely noticed and were soon absorbed in each other's company.  
Conversation was easy and light, mostly focused on catching up as the couples hadn't seen each other "in, like, ever". Armin had a very conspicuous, obviously new, mouth-shaped bruise under his jaw that they all pretended not to notice until they were all about a glass and half into their Barolo and Jean poked fun. Armin and Marco discussed the most recent debate in the gubernatorial race and what they thought the effects would be on the next poll; Jean and Eren got into an argument over ranking Tarantino.   
The night drew to a close too soon.  
"This was so much fun," Armin said as Eren draped his coat over his shoulders.  
"Yeah," said Jean. "Sorry it's been so long, we've just been so fucking busy."  
"Same," said Armin. "But we can't let it go so long next time."  
Everyone nodded.  
As they were strolling back to the Buick, Jean said, "Well. That's enough socializing for a while, don't you think?"  
Marco laughed and nudged his ribs. "At least we actually like them."  
"Speak for yourself," he said, wrapping his arm even more tightly around Marco's waist.  
When they got home Jean immediately went to the fridge and grabbed a bag of chips from the top.  
"We just ate dinner!"  
"So?" he replied through a handful of crumbs. Marco only rolled his eyes and grabbed the remote from the cluttered coffee table. He turned on the T.V. and dropped onto the couch as Jean disappeared into the bedroom. He soon returned shirtless. "What are you gonna watch?"  
"I don't know. Probably Netflix."  
He scrolled through a few of their suggestions but didn't find anything that caught his eye. "Here, you pick," he said, tossing the remote to Jean who caught it with oily fingers. Marco laid his feet on Jean's lap out of habit. After some deliberation, Jean picked Parks & Recreation, something they always agreed on and enjoyed, and they settled into the couch. It was dark and silent in the room; comfortable. Jean finished off the bag of chips and got up to throw it away and wash his hands. When he returned, Marco snuggled into his side. Jean wrapped his arm around his shoulders.  
Marco loved the show and always laughed at all the jokes, no matter how many times he'd watched the episode, but he found himself becoming more and more distracted by Jean rubbing lazy circles on the back of his neck. It was ridiculous. He knew he was just tired, wouldn't have been able to concentrate on much anyways. Jean probably didn't even realize he was doing it. But the feel of his fingers, so familiar and sure, caused a shudder to run through the core of his spine.  
He glanced at Jean's face. His lips were quirked slightly at the show, but his lids were heavy. He would fall asleep soon, Marco knew. So he ignored his arousal and tried to focus. The hand on his neck crept into his hair.  
"Jean?" he said tentatively.  
"Marco?"  
They looked at each other, the leaned in for a kiss, the T.V. forgotten.  
It started superficial, all pecks and small smiles. Jean cradled Marco's face in his hands and simply looked at him, eyes tracing all the small freckles across the bridge of his nose, his semi-permanent dimples, his dark eyes. Marco placed his hands on Jean's bare shoulders and pulled him in again. His used his lips to pull Jean's mouth open and stuck only the tip of his tongue into the heat before retreating the slightest bit. Jean followed, his fiancee's name on his breath.  
Though his eyes were closed, Jean could imagine, with perfect clarity, the way Marco looked right now; blushing, excited, reserved in the sexiest way possible. Just, Marco. His scent always overwhelmed his senses in times like this. Though he was so used to it that it was practically in the back of his mind at all times, moments like these were consumed by that warm, sugary smell that was particular to his fiancee alone.  
"Marco," he repeated, then turned his head and stuck his tongue into his mouth. Marco ran his along Jean's delicately. They both sucked gently for a moment, then Jean angled his head to the other side. Marco ran a hand from Jean's shoulder down to his bicep. Marco was a bit more forceful in the way he met Jean's tongue this time; they exhaled heavily through their noses.  
Already halfway in each other's laps, Marco lifted a leg to Jean's other side. They adjusted easily. Jean's hands rested naturally on Marco's hips. Marco placed his on the back of the couch. Jean took advantage of his slightly lower position to kiss Marco's exposed throat.  
When they had first gotten together, Jean was surprised and delighted to find Marco's freckles weren't limited to his face, but were sprinkled all over his body, throat included. He was even more surprised to discover how self-conscious Marco was about them. He used to wear long sleeves and jeans in the summer, claiming he burned easily which was obvious bull-shit just from looking at his face which grew browner day to day. Now, though he maybe wasn't proud of them, per se, he knew Jean loved them and seemed to find confidence in that, a fact which sent Jean over the moon.  
He traced the freckles on Marco's throat with his lips and tongue, then followed the trail down his neck before he was rudely stopped in his tracks by a stupid shirt. He huffed in irritation and grabbed the hem of the tee but Marco grasped his wrists with strong hands. Jean looked back up and Marco giggled at his confused expression. He leaned down and they kissed again.  
Marco completely covered Jean's mouth with his own. He slowly pushed his tongue deep and pressed it against the roof of Jean's mouth. Jean groaned and sucked at his tongue hungrily. Marco pulled it out and Jean sank his teeth into Marco's plump bottom lip. He tugged lightly, then tried to slip his tongue back but Marco only just allowed it before pulling away completely.  
Despite the heady weight of arousal permeating his body, Marco was finding it harder and harder to deny how tired his eyes felt. He stood from the couch, still holding firmly to Jean's wrists, and led him to the bedroom.  
They pulled off their pants and underwear and Jean helped Marco out of his shirt, then they fell to the bed together in a hazy heap. Once they were comfortable, under the covers, heads on their pillows, facing, they immediately reached for each other one more time. They took the other's cocks in their hands. Jean's grasp was firm, Marco's warm. They both had slight calluses, in patterns they could recognize within the span of a heart beat.  
They pressed their foreheads together and shared a breath as they jerked each other off, purposeful yet considerate towards their individual needs. Jean came first but didn't ejaculate. Marco did only a little. Jean rolled over and pulled some kleenex from the box on his nightstand which he used to clean up.  
Marco was already half asleep by the time he wrapped an arm around his middle and nestled his head into his chest. He was almost asleep himself when Marco yawned, "What time is your shift?"  
"Mmm... Fuck it, I'm not going in tomorrow. Krista can take my shift, she owes me."  
"Damn right she does," he muttered under his breath.  
"We're not getting into this now."  
He sighed. "You're right. Sorry, Love."  
Jean surprised him by stretching to kiss the tip of his nose. It was more than enough in the way of forgiveness.  
They fell asleep together, in their new house, in their own bed, which they would own for many years to come

**Author's Note:**

> I was going to tag this as plot what plot/porn without plot, but it's more like porn kind of is the plot. ... *shrugs*  
> Also, I'm aware of how ridiculous the number of times they do it in a day is. It's just more fun this way.
> 
> Comments are very welcome!


End file.
